Through the Pane

Gazing through the window pane

at colors and forms, moving all around

in all their shades and tints,

and Glory - conquered, inherited, claimed,

or sometimes just a disguise 

hiding the inner turbulence, the darker fears,

trying to fill the bore, the deep void,

attempting to veil the failures.

Lovers walking hands in hands,

in oblivion, in the bliss of ignorance;

And friends, claiming one moment that they are

and then forgetting it the next.

Looking through the glass

as the sunlight spreads on the grass and the pavements,

as some choose to face it, some search for shade

but never truly finding one to rest in.

Faces, they're all a stage.

Expressions, never alike.

A zealous lot of youth playing in the distance

as innocence echoes in this lifeless vacuum.

What's a victory on the field, when you've lost your soul to the material?

Everything looks alive.

everything lives, walks , in and from all walks of life.

I see the beauty, but I see no purpose, if you're not here.

What's a life that wasn't touched by you?

Why is my life? Why must I live?